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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22670359">hooked</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoppnhorn/pseuds/hoppnhorn'>hoppnhorn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hand Jobs, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:01:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>970</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22670359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoppnhorn/pseuds/hoppnhorn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span>Fucking Billy is like fucking the sun. Golden and always so hot to the touch, inside and out. Steve can’t compare Billy with anyone else because there’s no one like him. Not even in the quieter moments, when they’re only breathing, moving in tandem with nothing but skin between them. There’s no one else in his head, only Billy. Only blue eyes and shining curls and freckles. </span>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>240</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Harringrove Week of Love</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hooked</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Harringrove Week of Love v2 - 2/11/2020 - Marking</p><p>Another short one, but EHH.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Getting hands on Billy Hargrove is like snorting a line of coke. At least, Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinks</span>
  </em>
  <span> it would be like it, because he’s never done a line of coke but he’s pretty sure the </span>
  <em>
    <span>buzz</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his veins when he touches Billy’s skin is like that first hit of many. Of dozens. He’s high on Billy’s touch, his taste, his everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is why he can’t help but jump his </span>
  <em>
    <span>sort of</span>
  </em>
  <span> boyfriend / ex-asshole rival / worst lifeguard of all time whenever he sees him. Especially at the pool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pool is the worst place on earth for Steve to go nowadays. He can’t escape the sight of Billy’s body on full display, and the raging jealousy it creates in his gut is just a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lovely</span>
  </em>
  <span> side effect. The moms of Hawkins oogle and the girls all stare, bite their lips like playing coy will get his attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve knows Billy likes </span>
  <em>
    <span>dick</span>
  </em>
  <span> too much to really be worried about any of it, really. But he’s also pretty fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>annoyed</span>
  </em>
  <span> that the world thinks what’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> is up for grabs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s really fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They haven’t had that conversation but Steve’s fairly certain if he went and stuck his dick elsewhere, Billy would turn him and his side piece into a finely mulched pulp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s part of his appeal, really. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy is territorial as </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> and just too mean to admit as much. He gets pissed when Steve even </span>
  <em>
    <span>talks</span>
  </em>
  <span> about Robin and he’s pretty much begged Robin to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span> herself to Billy so he doesn’t have to deal with the whiplash. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she’s a dick like that. She thinks it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy getting cranky over Robin isn’t cute. But Steve knows it comes from the same place his little green monster comes from. The one that rises up in his head and yells when he sees Mrs. Wheeler pushing down her sunglasses to get an unobstructed view of Billy’s ass as he walks by. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s pretty fucking unsettling how much he wants to leave Ted Wheeler a message about his wife having a thing for </span>
  <em>
    <span>teenage boys</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t. She just has </span>
  <em>
    <span>eyes</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he knows it. But still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy is </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he can’t, fucking, </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t hold his hand. Or kiss his cheek. He can’t even talk to him for too long without Billy pushing him away and telling him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck off</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Keeping up appearances. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve goes to the pool far too fucking often for how much it pisses him off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes to the pool and Billy sort of nods at him from his chair and Steve knows that in fifteen minutes he needs to go to the vending machines by the office and pretend to mull over a choice of soda. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he knows that Billy will practically ignore him as he walks by to open the maintenance gate. Won’t even acknowledge he’s being followed until Steve is safely inside the utility closet and a solid door is closed behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he’ll get his hit. His good, long line, right to his bloodstream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d be content with just touching Billy anywhere he can, but Billy isn’t content with anything less than </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s insatiable the way Steve was expecting, like a wave crashing on the shore. Billy consumes him, handles him impulsively. Tugs and grabs and hums his </span>
  <em>
    <span>approval</span>
  </em>
  <span> when Steve follows after him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fucking Billy is like fucking the sun. Golden and always so hot to the touch, inside and out. Steve can’t compare Billy with anyone else because there’s no one like him. Not even in the quieter moments, when they’re only breathing, moving in tandem with nothing but skin between them. There’s no one else in his head, only Billy. Only blue eyes and shining curls and freckles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets high as a kite on Billy’s everything. His voice, his taste. He kisses Billy like he’s starving and Billy feeds him hungrily. Steve sucks shallow marks into his neck, until Billy hisses and pulls away. Too afraid of color to linger. Too </span>
  <em>
    <span>greedy</span>
  </em>
  <span> for Steve to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>lower</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On his knees, the concrete hard on his bones, Steve does what he can to keep that high. To keep it burning in his veins while Billy holds his jaw. Holds him steady and sure with blunt fingers digging into his scalp. Gathering his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s efficient, after a summer of practice, and the cement isn’t nearly as comfortable as the backseat of a car or a carpeted floor. Billy knows it, he helps him from the floor knowing he’ll be wincing. Knowing he’ll be ready to be flattened to the door and worshipped. Hard and sort of </span>
  <em>
    <span>brutal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, with a hand that knows only too well what he likes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sees spots in his vision, so blissed out, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span> and feels the scream gather on his tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy has a thing about not being </span>
  <em>
    <span>loud</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the pool. There’s nothing to keep the sound from leaking out into the air. So Steve bites down on the sound and swallows it away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Billy’s curse that reveals he’d bitten his shoulder in the process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Really, he can only blame Billy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s too good, too </span>
  <em>
    <span>strong</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steve wasn’t able to resist one more hit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe it’s not so bad, when Billy walks around later, teeth marks in the meat between shoulder and throat. Tender and red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ladies all gawk. The girls all whisper. Billy Hargrove is marked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Taken</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Or something like it. Maybe it’s not so bad when Karen packs up Holly earlier than usual, and the ladies disperse with shame in their cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it’s not so bad when the high school girls giggle and gossip, wondering which girl claimed the prize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy smirks when he finds Steve’s gaze across the pool, and Steve swallows heavy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonesing.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>find me on <a href="https://hoppnhorn.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> &amp; <a href="https://twitter.com/hoppnhorn">twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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